


you can hear it in the silence

by laadynaty



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Spoilers for Book 3: The Empire of Gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laadynaty/pseuds/laadynaty
Summary: In a starry night, Ali gets the timing right.
Relationships: Nahri e-Nahid & Alizayd al Qahtani, Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	you can hear it in the silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [socordia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/socordia/gifts).



> (major spoilers for The Empire of Gold. sorry for any mistakes – english is not my native language)

It took a long time until Nahri heard those three words spoken to her in Arabic again like once her mother had spoken, shown to her by the same man who spoke them at that moment.

They were lying side by side on the cushions at her house at the Shafit district. The sounds of people muzzling down the street had faded by then – it was a dark and starry night, too late for traders’ shouting their merchandise, for children’s happy screams as they played, for men and women communing in mixed groups of tribes and blood. It had grown silent a few hours before, but that night, instead of leaving immediately after sunset like the beginning, Ali seemed to have allowed himself stay for the night, much for her delight. His fingers trailed her arm with familiarity, for he had managed to touch past her wrists a few months ago. He was looking at her with such affection it made her blush. Definitely not a new reaction from her part – she suspected they would remain blushing in each other’s presence until the very end of their days.

After the war, they started rebuilding Daevabad together. Despite Nahri having moved to the Shafit district, they still saw each other every day since she bluntly said she wanted him to visit her frequently. They would walk together by the streets of their city, her hand around his arm, inspecting recent constructions, talking about whatever came into their minds. Nahri was by his side when workers removed the pieces of the old Citadel at the Geziri quarter, when its new walls came up, when he presented the project for a new and reformed security base for the new Counsel. Ali was by her side when she stepped into her hospital with her shafit crew, when she announced in the Daeva Temple they all would work together, djinn and daeva and shafit, for the sake of their new world. Nahri would slide her hand over his, intertwining their fingers, whenever Ali heard whispers about his appearance in the streets – and when they were alone, she would comfort him, claiming his eyes were like books and texts for Daevabadi: not everyone could appreciate their beauty. But she did. And he should, too. They would laugh about those mean comments a few moments later.

In the calmer nights, they would drink her grandfather’s tea and talk about their day: her patients, his meetings with ambassadors, and even what they had eaten for breakfast; then Nahri would teach him Divasti and in exchange, Ali would explain to her concepts of Economics. It became their routine, and she always warmed up just thinking about going back to her house to find him waiting at her doorstep. Some days were different, though: she would be so tired after healing an especially hard patient that he would sit beside her bed until she fell asleep, lulled by his smooth voice. In the next morning, he was never there, but always left her a note in recently learned Divasti: _may the fires burn brightly for you, my friend_. There were also times Ali would bring her a gift from some place he visits while traveling the currents, after a meeting with Sobek. Those were her favorite days – she had an especial place in the small table beside her bed to keep all his thoughtful gifts.

Nahri suddenly remembered the first gift from Cairo he had brought her: a toy chicken. Obviously. “Is this for me, or yourself?” she had asked, grinning widely at his barely contained joy. “Well, I bought one for myself, yes. But this one is for you. I figured it would be educational for you as a healer to study the mechanics of chickens without murdering one”, Ali had replied, with an amused expression. “But also”, he had continued, his face becoming more tender, “I brought you something else. From a friend.” It was a collection of the same once unlabeled jars Yaqub used to keep in his shelves, each of them full of powders and kernels. Attached to the package, a small note in Yaqub’s handwriting: _for the smartest Doctor I have ever met_. Tears had filled her eyes. “You didn’t have to stop by Cairo, did you?” she had asked him. “No,” he had answered, wiping one traitorous tear out of her cheek. “But I wanted to bring you something special from home.” After that, every week he had brought her something new from Cairo.

Those small demonstrations of affection shouldn’t have surprised her. Ali was never mysterious about his feelings for her. Even his declaration of love, whispered in that night, shouldn’t have surprised her. But every time she thought about how tenderly he looked out for her, her heart was filled by that same longing she felt when they were traveling the Nile together, that same inextinguishable flame that never seemed to stop burning, steady and _safe_. Something she never thought she could even _grasp_ , let alone keep within her arm’s reach for so long.

Earlier that night, after a gleeful conversation about everything they had already achieved for Daevabad, they had shared another kiss, for the first time after that fateful night when he asked her to carve the seal out of his heart. It was by impulse, like in Ta Ntry, but she was the one who started, a burst of passion that overcame her and made it impossible to stare at those lips without reaching out and touching them with her own. She had immediately pulled back, sitting at her cushions, embarrassed and scolding herself for disrespecting the boundaries he had set for them all those months ago in Ta Ntry. He was blushing hard, looking equally abashed; but then he had smiled – _that smile_ –, took her hand and laid at the cushions, urging her to do the same. Then, as his hands held hers against his heart, Ali had declared himself in Arabic.

Nahri was taken aback by that, and in a rush of saying something _fast_ , so he wouldn’t notice that he still could surprise her, the stupid response that came out of her mouth was: “I think it might be the first time in your whole life you said something in the right timing”. He had laughed at that, loud and brightly, and she felt her lips curl in a smile matching his. They were fondly staring at each other since then. He made no move to leave like he used to do every night, so she sighed and let herself enjoy the feeling of his fingers trailing up her arms.

She knew he wasn’t expecting her to say anything back. Nahri saw it in his yellow-dappled eyes staring at her in the dark, as she got lost in them, that he was being brave himself, for there was a time he wouldn’t have dared say it aloud. She also knew he had been ready to open up about it for a while. But that he waited to say it because he knew she was still healing, and still allowing herself to be vulnerable around him, made tears come into her eyes. That brought her back to a room in Ta Ntry, where Ali, departing, not sure if he would ever come back – despite promising her he would –, had said the Daeva words for her. Words of a religion he didn’t share nor believed, but acknowledged for its importance to her.

There was a time Nahri would never have dared to say it back. She used to believe that if she ever voiced her dreams, her desires, her feelings, it would crush them right in her face. But she no longer believed she ruined everything she touched – in fact, she had been touching this man for quite some time now, and they were as good as ever. So, as she looked at him in the darkness – the man she loved, her best friend –, even though she knew he could hear those words in the emotional silence that stretched over them, Nahri chose to say them, anyway.

She couldn’t say it back in Geziriya, so she said it in Arabic, for it was their secret language, one other djinn couldn’t understand: _I love you too_.

**Author's Note:**

> God bless Taylor Swift and S. A. Chakraborty.
> 
> song (title): you are in love (taylor swift)


End file.
